


Sweet

by middlemarch



Series: Mercy March [3]
Category: Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott, Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: American Civil War, Dessert & Sweets, F/M, Gen, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/pseuds/middlemarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary did not make blanc-mange. But she needs a little help with the recipe she did choose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet

“Jedediah, would you please come here?” Mary called from the kitchen. She was busy making a special dessert for Jo March’s inaugural dinner and Jed had been highly entertained by the amount of effort she had put into finding a recipe. She had consulted seriously with their neighbors and Mrs. Abbott. When she had asked Jonathan Harris what he preferred last night while they were smoking in the parlor, Jed with his Virginia tobacco and Jonathan professorial with a pipe, Jed had begun to wonder at her intensity. He thought he must order some new books for her from Vienna or perhaps even Verne’s _De la Terre a la Lune_ would engage her, fanastic though it was. She was quite occupied with managing the household and caring for Daniel and he enjoyed their spirited discussions on wide-ranging topics but he hadn’t imagined she could be such a _Hausfrau_. He had gently asked her as they lay in bed the night before if she were happy and why she was so focused on getting the dinner just so.

“You see, Jed, the Marches live quite simply and have so few luxuries. I know it will be such a treat for Jo to have a special dessert made for her and to not worry that she must stint on her portion so that her younger sisters are satisfied. And then too, it is a luxury for me to be able to prepare any recipe I want, without counting the cost of the ingredients, whether it will stretch for a second meal; at my parents’ home and also when I was married before, there was not so much flexibility in the household accounts and we most often had stewed fruit or something like it. It gives me pleasure to think of Jo’s face when Mrs. Hutchins brings out the dessert,” Mary had explained. Jed found moments like these happened more than he might have expected; he had never lived so intimately with someone else and certainly not someone from such a different background. Eliza had also been brought up on a large plantation and paid little attention to meals once she ordered the menus for the day.

Now, Mary was at the stove, apron securely pinned to her blue dress. Daniel was sleeping in his crib and the house was quiet. The heat from the pot before her had flushed Mary’s cheeks becomingly. He peered over her shoulder at the dark mess in the pot which appeared to be cooling down. He stepped back and Mary dipped her mixing spoon in to retrieve a small amount.

“Will you taste it? I want to make sure it is good. The recipe is rather vague,” she asked.

“What is it?” he replied, curiously. He rarely spent time in the kitchen and had no frame of reference.

“Chocolate pots du crème… like a custard but without eggs, just with lots of cream and sugar,” she said. The spoon was balanced before him and he tasted it. It was very rich but he couldn’t imagine what she would do to better it. He looked again at her bright eyes, the spotless apron, the little curls sneaking away from her netted hair.

“I’m not sure. I think you should taste it again, to make sure it is sweet enough,” he said.

She dipped the spoon again and tasted it herself. He saw her furrow her brow, concentrating on the flavor. When she closed her eyes after a second delicate lick of the spoon, he swiftly moved towards her and took her mouth with his own. She tasted of the dark chocolate, the smooth roundness of the cream, the sparkle of the sugar and underneath, of Molly, of long, warm nights and the snap in her eyes as she sent him off to the hospital. She was subtle and vivid, his favorite question, his most delightful answer.

He drew back though he left his hand upon her slender waist. “I stand corrected, it is sweet enough for me. If Miss Jo is not satisfied, she must have hers with a meringue.”

Mary set the spoon down and leaned towards him. Her cheeks were pink but her mouth was reddened, lush from his kiss. He prepared for a quip or a wry sally, but she only said, “I will make sure to set aside an extra portion for you, then, Jedediah, should you get hungry again later tonight. I will remember how you like yours served.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the "sweet" prompt. I tried to pick a recipe that was realistic for the time period-- I used a family history we have with a recipe for pots du creme from the 1880s. Jonathan Harris is visiting from "Not Words" via emmadelosnardos and Jo March from Little Women.


End file.
